


Pirate appreciation

by flipperbrain



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 17:39:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14242425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipperbrain/pseuds/flipperbrain
Summary: Emma spends a few minutes taking stock of her blessings. A gratuitous interlude.





	Pirate appreciation

Killian likes to be naked.

Within the confines of his own home, clothing is definitely optional. Emma is used to it, but it does present an obvious distraction. They went two rounds early this morning and she’s not ready for a third. But that won’t stop her from admiring his nude silhouette as he leans against the kitchen counter flipping through a coupon circular that arrived in the mail. ’Bananas are on sale’ he says glancing at her with that cheeky grin of his. He knows she’s looking, and he likes it. She adores his swaggering confidence. They both have flaws but Killian doesn’t care, he embraces them. Flaunts them.

\----------

Emma sits down at the table and folds her arms, her eyes taking inventory of her husband.

His hair is shiny and dark and needed to be cut 2 weeks ago, it’s sticking up on top from the last time he raked his hand through. He absently tosses his head, willing the strand that hangs down on his forehead to return where it belongs, but it refuses to comply. She loves the way his hair curls around his ears when it’s just a bit too long. His thick mane is always messy in a good way, luring the unsuspecting like herself to bury their hands in it.

His ears, somewhat pointed and elf-like, they stand out slightly from his head. Sculpted and unique s-curves attached by a knowing higher power; their tips blaze red at her gaze, lit up like tiny beacons warning innocent sailors to beware of his disarmingly beautiful face. She watches his eyes as they scan the sale paper, his eyebrows moving in tandem. Heavy brush strokes against his fair skin, and they have a mind of their own. Uncontrollably expressive and a dead giveaway to his moods, signal flags for his desires. Furrowed, dark and dangerous when he’s wanting. Light, innocent and active when he’s getting.

Killian peers at her, his eyes narrow and he opens his mouth to speak but she waves her hand and remarks ‘I’m not nearly finished yet babe. Are you cold?’

’No…’ he responds. ’Shall I turn around?’

’Nope. Not yet.’ She quips

Killian makes a face and picks up a magazine. He crosses his ankles and starts thumbing through the pages, laughing to himself. This might take awhile.

\----------

She returns to her reverie…his eyes. Blue like the sea… no, that’s not it. Cerulean blue. She thinks of a visit to the beach when she was a child, it was warm and sunny, and one of the few days she remembers feeling carefree. She walked along the shore, her toes grabbing the wet sand, looking out at the calm blue waters of a small inlet… his eyes are like that. The clearest blue with flecks of gold and green, she sees love and their happiness in his eyes. The eyeliner he wears just makes them more vivid, adds drama. Even standing here naked as the day he was born, his eyes are rimmed with kohl. She loves it, and on most other men it wouldn’t work but she can’t imagine him without it. 

And lets not forget those eyelashes, she’s jealous of his lashes. Long and dark and sexy. He’s looking down at the magazine he holds and there they are dusting the tops of his cheekbones. She thinks of how they flutter when they kiss, how he looks through them when his head is tilted down and he’s looking up at her. She knows he uses her mascara sometimes when they go out and he wants to be just a little extra.

Her eyes drift down to his mouth and those plump lips that often stick together at the corners then peel apart when he smiles or snarks. His lower lip has a slight crease in the center when he pouts… it begs to be nibbled and is silky soft dragging along the inside of her thighs or sealed around her nipple… she snaps out of her erotic fantasy and has barely moved on to his jawline when she realizes this tour is a fool’s errand. What was resting mere moments before is now hard and standing out from his body like an Emma divining rod, pointing in her direction.

’Sorry,’ he says grinning sideways when he notices where her eyes are focused. He licks his thumb and turns the page of the magazine balanced on his left forearm.

She rolls her eyes and sighs as her eyes stroll down his long neck, he hasn’t shaved today and his scruff extends further down than normal. When he is angry or straining the muscles and tendons are taut and clearly defined, the hollow of his throat a deep depression. Right now his neck is a smooth column, curving out gently onto his shoulders. His collarbones jut out from its base parallel to the floor, there’s something so incredibly sensual about them, delicate but masculine rule lines that she often traces with her tongue and fingertips.

\----------

She continues south to his chest and the thick dark hair that covers it. The charms on his necklace lay nestled between his breasts, the small skull and dagger obscured within the pelt of wiry hair, his nipples pink and hard surrounded by pebbled aureolas. She peruses the definition of his ribs, admires his slender waist and the ridges of his hipbones, then her eyes flit back to follow the furred trail downward to the point where it circles the velvet skin of his cock; veined, swollen and proudly erect.

The magazine never held any interest to begin with and he sets it aside and grins, his thoughts have moved on to other matters. She watches as he reaches down and takes himself in hand and begins to slowly stroke, his thumb rubbing firmly from base to tip. Her first impulse is to join him, to aid his efforts… but then she decides since her physical inventory was so rudely interrupted before she even made it to his thighs, she will observe only and not participate. He stops for a moment and their eyes connect ’Would you care to assist me?’ He asks. Emma tilts her head and answers ’No, I’m fine right here thanks.’

He raises an eyebrow and his hand moves over the tip, gripping and massaging it then sliding back along its length. His lips part as his eyes sweep over her, imagining her body arching into him while he fucks her, the softness of her lips against his. How it feels to lick her tongue and the sweet taste of her mouth, her sighs and sounds and moans when he makes her come. He hangs his head and squeezes his eyes closed, his fist pumping forward and back, faster and faster.

She’s in love with the faces he makes in moments likes these, pained pleasure; his lips drawn back over his teeth as he grinds and thrusts into his hand. She can see he is almost there and waits for that look when the spasms begin; when both brows arch and that expression of raw vulnerability crosses his features and he lets go… then with a groaning whine he goes rigid and there it is, the soft inner Killian exposed. His orgasm pours out onto the floor in spurts in rhythm with the movement of his hand, his hips jerking sloppily, straining out the last of it until he’s finally empty and leans panting against the counter. 

Emma looks at the floor then smiles at him ‘I think you spilled something, Captain.’


End file.
